


A Saurian Encounter

by Morteamore



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Interspecies Sex, Large Cock, M/M, Maurhys?, Non-Human Genitalia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Tetraphilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23124607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morteamore/pseuds/Morteamore
Summary: Rhys visits Zer0 aboard the Sanctuary III for Mercenary's Day and encounters the hyper-intelligent saurian Maurice, whose currently studying the scientific and cultural aspects of the 'warmbloods'. When Maurice asks Rhys to aid him in his research, the CEO agrees, only to discover that the aid he's providing is a lot more stimulating than he thought it'd be.
Relationships: Rhys Strongfork/Maurice
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	A Saurian Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Conter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conter/gifts).



> Written as an xmas present for Conter. Fun fact: written entirely on my phone mostly on xmas day. I have no regrets.

Around Mercenary Day, Rhys had come on board the Sanctuary III to pay his favorite bodyguard and assassin a festive visit, and to give him his holiday bonus in person. It was an Atlas Q-System rifle with a semi-automatic switch and an advanced version of Atlas' tracking and GPS system. Being a prototype, it wasn’t yet out on the market, and Zer0 would be the first to wield it. The assassin was quite pleased with the bonus, the digital display on his helmet glowing with a red heart. It made Rhys realize how much he missed having the humanoid back at Atlas HQ. In the time Zer0 had come to work for the company, they had become friends, the humanoid often acting as his confidant.

But the assassin had his own desires, and he seemed to have become comfortable here on the ship, engaging in the adventures and battles he often was wistful for. That, and he seemed to have fallen in well with the newer Vault Hunters. Especially the other assassin, Zane Flynt. Rhys was not one to deny anyone their happiness, so he’d succumbed to the fact that his body guard and friend might be in the midst of moving on from his company.

Deep in thought, Rhys found himself colliding with a wide, sturdy body on his way back to the Fast Travel. He was knocked back, stumbling until gravity finally drew him downward, his ass colliding hard with the deck plating. When he looked up, he released a little scream. Towering above him, all scaly, green skin, sharp hooks of claw, and jutting, pointed teeth as big as the width of his palm, was a saurian. The Eden-6 natives were absolutely terrifying to him, and this one was no exception as it regarded him with its multiple opaque eyes, the golden fins that crested its skull like some great pompadour flexing. On instinct, Rhys scooted back, movements frantic as he tried to find his footing. Chunky legs propelled the saurian forward, its neck extending like the sinews of a snake as it bowed its head toward him.

“You are not a warmblood Maurice has familiarized himself with,” came a voice. “Though your extremities are inorganic. How can this be? Has the machine Fl4k fornicated with the humans?”

Looking around in confusion, Rhys noticed the corridor was empty save for him and the saurian. Except for a few fearsome twitches, the saurian's mouth had not moved, either. He didn’t think they could talk regardless if it had. Looking closer, however, the device implanted in the bulbous back of its head and around its neck became evident. Someone had fitted the saurian with a communication device. 

“Fornication?” Rhys said, sounding incredulous as he attempted to right himself using a panel built into a wall. “What are you—oh. Oh, you mean the arm and the ECHO eye? No, that’s—I did that myself.” 

An enormous clawed hand extended, obviously not capable of much dexterity by its appearance, but functional all the same.

“Maurice wishes to assist.”

“N-no, I’m okay.” Rhys managed to haul himself up, backing up down the hall. “See? I'm totally capable of handling this myself.”

Following footstep by lumbering footstep, Maurice swiveled his head, canting it slightly. It was a strange gesture, more attuned to a domesticated pet. Rhys knew the saurian was anything but, though he couldn’t fathom what the creature was doing on Sanctuary III. Something like a saurian seemed way too volatile to let roam around on board of free will.

Nostrils quivering, Maurice sniffed the air. There was a deep rumbling from deep within his throat, which Rhys felt more than heard. Though he had stopped in his tracks, he moved forward again, crowding Rhys’ space. The Atlas CEO made a startled sound and backed up more, realizing he was being pushed into the recess of a disused hallway, the lights dimmer here.

“Your scent is like the bouquet of prey freshly hunted,” Maurice informed him. “It entices the senses. Even for that of a brother of the claw's.”

“That would probably be from Zer0. I bet he was murdering things before I dropped in. Typical.”

“How does a numerical entity carry a scent? Maurice can not comprehend this proposal.”

“You know, Zer0? Tall, dresses in monochrome, speaks in haiku, carries a large sword.”

The fins stop Maurice’s head flexed, perhaps in the equivalent of a brow wrinkle. Looking around in the confines of silence, Rhys realized he’d been herded somewhere to the bowels of the ship, alcoves scattered periodically, beset with machinery to read the levels of things like emissions and fuel usage, ensuring they were in the safe zone. Maintenance hardly ventured to these places, if ever, only viewing them in passing. Most monitoring of such vital components could be done from the bridge, anyway. 

The fact was that Rhys was alone here with a being he didn’t exactly trust yet. Mostly because of their reputation as vicious, territorial predators capable of rendering flesh from bone in a heartbeat. The one before him—Maurice?—didn’t appear to be displaying such aggression, but Rhys wasn’t taking his chances. Thinking he’d be safer in an alcove, he ducked into one, having to hunch down to get in. The saurian likely wouldn’t have room to follow. 

But then he realized he’d trapped himself in the space, no exit at his back. The sound of him gulping echoed loudly.

“The number is a warmblood like no other Maurice has met before,” the saurian finally said, approaching the alcove and extending his neck to peer inside. “He eludes Maurice’s expertise.” Another audible sniff, Maurice’s jaws gaping slightly. “You, being of machine and warmblood is…intriguing. More than the numerical being or the machine that possesses the life essence. Tell Maurice, of what alphabetical order do the other humans sound at you?”

“Oh, er, you mean, like my name?” The more amicable discussion pulled Rhys’ thoughts away form the perilous situation. “I’m…I’m Rhys Strongfork, CEO of Atlas.”

“You are the alpha entrepreneur of the Promethean kingdom of the Atlas? Maurice wishes to know more.”

“Theres not much more to say. Used to be Hyperion, but things changed. A lot. that was a long time ago now.” Though he couldn’t fathom what compelled him to spill his guts to a beast such as a saurian, Rhys found himself comfortable speaking plainly of his past. “I'm just glad I run Atlas now. It worked out so much better. Where’s Hyperion these days? Barely a contender anymore, and with nobody special at the helm.”

“Your use of words are peculiarly in flux for an entrepreneur. Is it that you doubt your convictions? This is mystery, like the humans so love in their medias.”

“No, of course not.” Rhys let out a nervous laugh. “You kind of have a lot to learn about humans, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The word was drawn out through the saurian’s teeth. “Warmbloods such as humans continue to fascinate the brothers and sisters of the claw.”

Using one of his heavy feet, Maurice began to lift himself into the alcove, pressing inside, pushing Rhys back even further. The saurian was massive of size, but Rhys had underestimated his ability to fit into smaller spaces, and how much room they had in the alcove overall. All but Maurice’s tail fit, which swayed outside the entrance, the spines covering it rigid. 

“The warmblood Rhys,” he continued. “Maurice wishes to engage you in inquiry.”

“Er, sure. Fire away, I guess.”

“Excellent. It is clear that that you have bound yourself to machines. The machines, they have never shown an affinity for that with Maurice. It is both alarming and of much interest. How have you managed to convince the inorganics to engage in copulation?”

“What?” Rhys nearly squeaked, so surprised by the question. “That’s not what I did at all. Humans can’t engage in…that with robots. Well, I mean, they can. But the results aren’t—they're not what you’re probably thinking. They can’t reproduce that way. That’s not even what cybernetics or AI's are.”

“A clutch or brood cannot be produced by the copulation of machines and warmbloods. That is a most unfortunate discovery. Maurice believed perhaps he could have produced a new species for himself to analyze and conduct the scientific ministrations on. Maurice will have to approach his scientific paradigm with alternative methods.”

Finding his jaw hanging open slightly, Rhys shut it, his blood running cold.

“You were planning to experiment on kids? Kids that you were trying to engineer, nonetheless!”

“Does this proposition trouble the one known as Rhys?”

“Are you insane? Of course it does!”

“Very well. Maurice will adjust his scientific dreams so that the Rhys may feel more comfort in his presence.” The saurian made a grumbling deep in his throat, as if clearing it. His teeth were briefly bared and Rhys wasn’t exactly sure if he were trying to mimic a smile or not. “However, Maurice understands he must appeal to your warmblood nature, and thus has a proposition. The understanding of the mating rituals of other species is limited among the brethren of the claw. If Maurice desires answers to his ponderings, he must remedy this.”

It took a moment or two for Rhys to process what the saurian was saying, his back pressed up against the wall as much as it could be. Uncertainty and the strange direction of the conversation made him unable to pull himself away easily. 

“I’m not sure what you’re asking of me,” he finally said. “I really hope it isn’t about something weird and sexual.”

“If Maurice wishes to gather evidence, he must uphold the scientific method. However, he does not have another brother of the claw to assist him. So he must put himself into the fray. Maurice asks of the Rhys, would you consider a copulation session with him?”

“Ah, that’s….” Rhys trailed off, at a loss for words. He couldn’t escape, and the saurian wasn’t moving, intent on receiving an answer. Sweat beaded Rhys’ forehead. A droplet slid down his nose, dripping on to his shirt. “You see, Maurice, it's not that you don’t seem friendly or anything. I’m sure you’re completely charming among the other saurians. But the fact is, y-you're still a saurian, and I’m just a lowly human. And it’s not exactly…polite among humans to…be with those outside the human species. In fact, it’s pretty much a faux pas.”

“Ah, so the warmblooded humans are a xenophobic and biased species.”

“Yes. I mean, no. Well, maybe yes in the way you’re thinking of.” Throwing up his hands in a shrug, Rhys could barely respond. “The fact is, it just wouldn’t be, er, very upright of me as the Atlas CEO to engage with you in…that kind of—whoa, now, what the hell…?”

Somehow, despite the complete lack of change in Maurice's expression, Rhys got the impression he was acting sheepish. Perhaps it was the slight duck of his head or the way he directed his gaze away from Rhys.

“Please forgive Maurice,” he said, his feet shuffling with thunderous steps. “This talk of copulation has enticed the baser instincts of a claw brethren. The time of mating has not cone yet for Maurice. He has difficulties procuring a mate. And the lack of groinal cloth does not allow for his discretion.”

Unable to takes his eyes off of the emerging anatomy from between the saurian’s legs, Rhys said one word: “Shit.”

“Why does the Rhys use the expletive towards polite company?”

“Because—and I’m sorry for the rudeness in advance—this is scary, being stuck here with a huge predatory creature that’s telling me he’s pretty randy, of all things!”

“This dilemma is unclear. Maurice does not pose a threat to the humans. The physical engagement he proposes is not a contestment.”

At a loss for words, Rhys just made a guttural noise and shook his head in frustration. 

“Is the Rhys confused by the proposition? Does he need time to assess its meaning to make his conclusion?”

“No, no,” Rhys answered, voice curt. “My conclusion is…well, I don’t see how I’m getting out of here. Alive. You’re pretty huge and you’re blocking the way. S—so, can’t I just give you a handjob and we’ll call it even?”

There was a moment or two where Maurice said nothing, only licked his chops in a way that made Rhys feel like a snack. And not the non-edible kind, either.

“Are not all warmblood jobs done with their extremities if not their mental capacities?”

“You're not wrong. But that’s not what I meant. This is where, well, I manually…stimulate your…anatomy. And it’s similar. T—to copulation.”

“The brethren of the claw do not perform this task you speak of. Our osteo placement does not mimic that of the warm-blooded humanoids. It is most impossible to stimulate the claw brother anatomy that way. Maurice uses plants and trees, and occasionally warm boulders.”

“Uhm, I didn’t need to know that.”

“You do not wish to hear responses of the topics you have breached? The logic is evasive.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that without this becoming convoluted.” 

Taking a deep breath, holding it a moment too long, Rhys let it out in a rush. He had to force himself to look downward, and what he saw there was even more intimidating than the last time he’d looked. The saurian’s genitals were large in comparison to a human’s, strange in shape. It was like nothing he’d seen before, the slick, vivid pink flesh almost without definition, gently curved at the end like a semi-hook. There was no real head or anything Rhys could define as a scrotum, just some protrusions on the underside that made him not want to think about their purpose, ending in slight points. He really, really hoped those were softer than they appeared. Otherwise even his palms were at risk here. 

“I can’t believe I’m about do what I’m about to do,” he said aloud, and broke away from the wall, shuffling forward with an uncertain gait.

Standing there in patient rigidity, Maurice thankfully didn’t do anything to startle him. The saurian simply regarding him, head fins at full mast, a bit of drool slipping over his lips. Using his cybernetic hand, Rhys reached out, careful not to make any sudden moves. He gulped loudly, fingers twitching in response to his anxiety, despite not being made of muscle or flesh. 

It wasn’t a far reach. The saurian’s length was just that large. Though he couldn’t feel the actual moment his metal fingers connected with flesh, he felt the shaft pulse gingerly under his touch, heard the deep purr of satisfaction rumble through the beast’s body like a motor starting up. For awhile, Rhys did nothing but stay locked in that position, gripped by the shear anomaly of the situation. When he woke up that morning with plans to visit Zer0, maybe stick around a bit to catch up on what was new with the Crimson Raiders, he had not expected to encounter a saurian with amorous intentions. In fact, such situations didn’t even happen in his bizarrest dreams. Or nightmares? Rhys wasn't sure what this constituted as. It wasn’t too bad, though. If he ignored the viscous fluid leaving a thick coat on his cybernetic and the slight warmth of life radiating from Maurice's length, he could almost pretend he was administering his mechanical expertise to a newly acquired piece of tech.

Yeah, he preferred perceiving the situation as such instead of exactly what it was. That ability to detach from the part of him that wanted to reject what was unfolding and flee to some safe, hidden space helped him elevate. He was able to do more than just stand there in awkward silence with a slight grip on the saurian. His palm slid along the curving rise and then plummet of Maurice's anatomy, the twitch of the saurian’s arm and leg muscles minute but there. 

“This is very pleasing to Maurice,” the saurian said, and Rhys could detect some strain to the words. “The Rhys’ suggestion was one of great cognitive reasoning.”

“Er, sure,” Rhys said, keeping his pace steady. 

His mechanical arm wasn’t capable of getting tired. The movements of it along the top half of the saurian’s shaft could go on forever, or at least until Maurice found his release. The protrusions on the underside were squished easily under the weight of his palm, which was some relief. At least he could put the thought of those things tearing up tender insides out of his mind.

Without warning, Maurice surged a step or two against Rhys, pushing him backwards. It was with such force that he almost lost his grip on the saurian. The wall pressed into his back once more, Maurice's snout inches from his face. A dark pink tongue slithered out, slipping over his chin and parts of his lips and nose. For a moment, Rhys was all out disgusted. But there was also something warm and comforting about the saurian equivalent of a kiss, like the calming licks from a puppy. The CEO quickly found himself getting over his initial repulsion, wondering vaguely if the saurians possessed some kind of strange enzyme in their saliva. Like a sedative used to subdue prey or the like. The very thought made him uncomfortable, so he ceased thinking about it, doubling his efforts with the handjob.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. It felt like a lifetime. Rhys was sure Maurice's cock had gotten harder, thicker under his manipulations. Honestly, though, he was just happy he’d survived the situation thus far.

“Though this is a most enjoyable consumption of time,” the saurian eventually said, “Maurice does not believe this is the copulation he has so imbibed information about. It is not conducive to his research. If the Rhys is prepared, Maurice would like for him to engage in advancement of this copulative encounter.”

“I thought we’d agreed to just a handjob,” Rhys said, balking, his voice taking on extra whine.

“Yes. But Maurice’s desires for…research have escalated.”

“Oh.” 

It was all Rhys could manage to get out, threads of unease rising from the depths of his viscera, unfurling in his blood. The sweat accumulating on his body was becoming uncomfortable, the beat of his heart quickening in a steady rhythm. His lungs barely could draw breath. Processing the situation was even more difficult. The handjob was…well not fine by a long shot. But he could handle dealing with it. This, though? Maurice didn’t seem about to back down, and he could see no graceful way out that didn’t land him between those fearsome jaws. There was no way he could trust the Sanctuary crew to know every nuance of Maurice's behavior, anyway. There just wasn’t a whole lot of human and saurian interaction documented. Which left the situation stable, if the onboard atmosphere was anything to go by, but unpredictable. The saurian might strike him down if he chose to escape, or he might not, and there was no honest way to tell which way things would swing.

In the end, the CEO found himself resigning himself to the inevitable fate. His hands clasped together, fingers wringing.  
“A-alright. I…guess this could—just, try and be gentle, ok? This is my first time. I mean, not in general or anything.” Rhys gulped down his unease, trying to stiffen his spine. “Just…just with one of your type. You know, different…different species with differing anatomies and—oh god. I don’t even have any lube.”

“Maurice acknowledges the Rhys’ concerns and wishes to reassure him that he is within the realm of decent claws.” The saurian paused, shifting to take a wider stance. “Also, the lubrication Rhys speaks of will not be necessary.”

Trying not to think about it, Rhys’ hands fumbled at his own belt. With a clink, the buckle fell away, the zipper soon following. Though it was difficult to differentiate himself from the actions, Rhys willed himself to do so, trying to think of pleasant things as he removed his clothing. Swirled flavored froyo and beachy vacations; his colleagues, his bros, the rising success of Atlas despite its shaky past.

By the time Rhys was stripped down, he’d forgotten about his predicament as much as he could possibly hope to. Even the clawed appendage coming to rest on his arm didn’t pull him back in entirely.

“Has the Rhys had enough time to prepare for his full copulation with Maurice?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Rhys said with shaky breaths. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Knowing when any plans he could make in a situation were futile, Rhys turned around and braced himself against the wall. It was easier, somehow, now that he didn’t have to look. He could pretend this was a perfectly normal sexual encounter, that the creature at his back was indeed a man and not…something else. That Zane fellow. Or, hell, even Zer0. Maybe also that a little Digby Vermouth was even playing in the background. His boxer briefs were pushed down, exposing his heated skin to the cooler air as he counted off the moments on each rise and fall of his chest.

Warm breath on the back of his neck, ruffling the hair there. Trembling, he tried not to clench his muscles too tightly, his gaze roaming down, falling upon his own length. Despite the situation, he was at half-mast, as if his body couldn’t hold itself back from arousal entirely. In his life, he didn’t think he’d experienced anything weirder, Per Se. But in the realm of things, he guessed it wasn’t the weirdest things that had happened to him overall. That was definitely the whole AI and Vault of the Traveler experience, if he was being honest. Who among most people he encountered could ever claim to have a Handsome Jack AI in their head at some point?

So deep in thought, he barely noticed Maurice’s touch until the saurian’s length was brushing up against him. That startled him into awareness again. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if the saurian could handle things on his own. If he didn’t want to endure a whole new level of soreness, Rhys was going to have to assist. Steeling himself, he reached behind his back, gulping as his cybernetic finally touch stiffened flesh. With gentle but firm movements, he drew the saurian’s length closer to his nethers, parting his legs as he willed himself to relax even further. His calves and thighs trembled as he managed to brush Maurice’s dick against his hole, feeling how relative its girth was to his body.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maurice wasn’t huge or anything. He’d had bigger. At least width wise. Probably. And the saurian had been truthful, at least: his length was adequately sickened at this point, seeming to produce its own lubrication.

Despite everything, the first jab still took Rhys off guard. The slippery curvature of Maurice’s length prodded him with a gentle insistence that was both demanding and unhurried at the same time. The beast let out a throaty rumble that seemed to echo through him, a slight shiver running up his spine. It occurred to Rhys then that he might actually like that sound. Or at least liked the dominant air of it nearly shaking him to his core.

Though he didn’t lean into it, Rhys adjusted himself, giving the saurian easier access. At once Maurice took advantage, his breath releasing in a huff as he swayed forward. There was some resistance from Rhys’ body, the involuntary tensing up he couldn’t quite prevent. It was likely a simple natural reaction to the risk involved, as the waters hadn’t been exactly dry lately when it came to sexual partners, just slightly compromised in the face of his devotion to Atlas.

With his secure grip, though, he managed to keep Maurice steady enough for his body to accommodate the saurian’s desires. A sharp grunt of awkward pleasure erupted from him and split the air as the first inch or so finally slipped inside, surprising him with how much it ignited warmth within his groin. Unfortunately, Maurice was not well versed in sexual etiquette among humans, something Rhys should have predicted. Instead of allowing the CEO time to adjust to the invasion, the saurian kept thrusting himself forward, penetrating Rhys even further. Rhys yelped more out of surprise and anxiety than any true pain, which made Maurice pause in his tracks.

“Is the Rhys in discomfort from Maurice’s ministrations?” the saurian’s voice rang out, seemingly even deeper now, as if he’d gone hoarse. “Shall Maurice cease his actions, despite that they invoke such…pleasures?”

“Uhm, er,” Rhys’ began, voice shaky. “Y—you don’t have to stop. But I would appreciate it if you’d take your time maybe? Also maybe not put the entire thing in all the way if you can help it. Just, you know, out of courtesy to my body.”

A growling hum cane from the saurian, making him sound too human. He didn’t answer for a second or several.

“Very well. Maurice sees no reasons how these requests would compromise his research. We shall continue to proceed with the cautions the Rhys has proposed.”

“Oh, well, cool. I—whoa!”

Not wasting a moment, Maurice had returned to his task, the curved part of his anatomy creating a new, more intense sensation inside Rhys. His toes curled as the hookish length brushed his most intimate parts, his gasp strained as he felt the protrusions on the underside slipping within him as well, the width growing slightly more because of them. It was a pleasant stretch, satisfying in a base way. The gasp became a soft moan before Rhys could help himself. 

“The Rhys makes curious noises,” Maurice observed. “Is he experiencing the discomfort again?”

“N-not at all,” Rhys’ answered, shaking his head. He was pretty sure Maurice had worked himself in up to the middle of his length by now, which the saurian also seemed to realize, as he stopped pushing forward. Instead, he shuffled back, his cock slipping back along with him. Rhys shuddered hard at the thick flesh dragging along inside him in a smooth, unbroken movement. “Oh…oh god.”

“Maurice is not a deity of humans,” the saurian pointed out.

There was no reply from Rhys. As inherent instinct seized the saurian, Maurice stopped his backwards momentum, rocking his large, solid body forward, nearly flattening Rhys flush against the wall. A cry of shear ecstasy escaped the CEO as he was penetrated deep so suddenly. His flesh hand pawed at his own shaft, which had grown rigid with arousal. 

Drool spattered Rhys’ back as Maurice found a rhythm, kept it up with heavy releases of breath. He could feel the saurian’s saliva through his shirt, the warmth of it seeping through. It reminded him he was currently at the mercy of a very dangerous creature, who, if he hadn’t been an amorous ally, might have regarded him as lunch. Even so, Rhys’ couldn’t help being pleasured by Maurice’s movements, the heated, textured warmth of him within. It was a bizarre pleasure, the type that snuck up and ensnared you in its clutches without warning. Rhys found himself openly moaning as Maurice pumped his body against him, Rhys’ hips being pushed through the clamp of his own fist by the powerful and heavy saurian form.

Behind him, Maurice let out a long, feral rumble, his stance widening even further, shifting his length deeper. It wasn’t very easy for him to quicken his pace, but something even more animalistic seemed to take over his movements, driving them with a wild intensity. Vaguely Rhys wondered what would happen if anyone happened to walk by this deserted area of the ship at this very moment, how they’d interpret what they were witnessing.

Well, if anything, he could always chalk it up to saurian and Atlas peace negotiations. The thought almost had him chuckling. In fact, he might have done so, if Maurice hadn’t taken that moment to give a particularly potent thrust.

It turned out to be Rhys’ undoing. The build up was so swift, so encompassing, he almost didn’t even feel it hitting him. But suddenly his body was jerking in his own grip, muscles so taut it was almost painful, neck straining. The orgasm was hard, paralyzing. He cried out so loudly it sounded like he was sobbing, Maurice’s body still slapping at him even as he felt his own thick, hot jism coating his fingers, the rest painting the alcove wall. 

Then he was like liquid and skin, a marionette with cut strings. The only thing keeping him upright was the wall and Maurice’s solid body.

The saurian roared, then, slamming against him so hard Rhys' world transformed into a rush of blood and white noise, muscles pulsing wildly again, as if he were cumming once more. It was a stranger feeling, though, more uncomfortable and intense than anything pleasurable. At this point, he was probably over sensitive, the stimulation far too much.

Behind him, he felt Maurice go still, claws coming to rest on Rhys’ body. The CEO was beyond thankful that though he heard the tearing of cloth and felt the hooks or bone penetrating his shirt, they didn’t appear to pierce his flesh. Chalk one up for Maurice being very much in control of himself. Seconds later, he felt something hot and slippery assault his insides, the saurian’s cum a shear torrent that was so fierce and voluminous it simply leaked from Rhys’ orifice. He could feel it running down his thighs and hear it pattering against the deck plating beneath his feet.

“Holy shit,” Rhys exclaimed hoarsely, not knowing how to respond otherwise.

Maurice simply just let out another roar of satisfaction, this one lower and more subdued this time.

Mind flat-lined, body not yet having come down from orgasmic high, Rhys had only one question: how the hell were they going to clean up this mess 

The CEO didn’t know how much longer they stood like that, Maurice buried deep inside him, quiet save for his breathing. Sometime later, though, the saurian was pulling away, his length sliding inch by agonizing inch from Rhys’ body, drawing back and beginning to go limp. He licked his chops, Rhys turning around in place to regard him, slouching. He tried reaching for his pants, taking at least several tries to grab them. Luckily they’d narrowly avoided being doused in either of their cum.

Just as he was working them back over his feet and tugging them upward, something warm and wet graced his face, pushing his hair back so that it stuck to itself. He realized Maurice had licked him again. If he didn’t know better, it looked like there was even a reptilian grin on the saurian’s face.

“This has been an experience that the claw brethren will be eager to hear Maurice regale them with tales of,” the saurian rumbled, the words coming out slowly. He butted his head against Rhys, the man deciding to interpret it as an affectionate gesture. “Maurice wishes to thank the Rhys for his contribution.”

“Ah, hey, it…it wasn’t anything, really,” Rhys said, his voice wavering. He gave the saurian a pat or two on the stretch of skin at his neck in camaraderie. “Atlas is, erm, always happy to assist a being in need.”

“Excellent.” Maurice gave a pause, snuffling loudly. “It is quite pleasing to know the Rhys is stable with the results that Maurice has concluded with. Perhaps he would not mind conducting this experiment once more with Maurice, then. Integrity is important. You must give Maurice time to recuperate, however.”

Rhys, feeling like the ground had opened up and swallowed him very suddenly, let out a curt, barking laugh. Then he shook his head, expression as incredulous as it was exasperated. 

“Swell,” he said, making it a sigh, his body sliding down the wall until he was resting on his sore ass entirely. “Really, really swell.”

**Author's Note:**

> Conter was awesome enough to provide fanart for this fic. It can be found [here](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/ES9vM8cWAAEKN-4.jpg) (NSFW)


End file.
